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The Amazing Dr. Darwin

Page 23

by Charles Sheffield


  “What now?”

  “We think again.” Darwin, if anything, seemed pleased, as though some less interesting alternative had been disposed of. He led the way back down. When they emerged into the dining room a middle-aged woman with a thin, tight-lipped face was waiting for them. She examined Darwin, grimy and covered with cobwebs, with plenty of curiosity, but spoke at once to Solborne.

  “It’s happened again, sir. We had eight gallons or more, now we have less than two. Someone is pilfering—and it isn’t me nor Joan nor Liza.”

  “I am sure it isn’t. I trust all of you completely.” Solborne frowned, and muttered as though to himself, “As if I did not have enough on my mind!” And then, to the indignant woman, “There’s only one thing for it, Dolly. Have Walter carry the barrels inside, and set them in the scullery. That way no one can wander along the road and steal our oil.”

  He turned to Darwin. “Mineral oil is in short supply this year, and winter prices are high. But never before have I found it necessary to guard our house reserves.”

  In the few minutes that they had been up on the roof, the big lamps around the walls of the dining room had been lit and trimmed. On a low table a few feet from Darwin, loaded dishes had magically appeared. There were plates of boiled prawns, vinegared mussels and whelks, and hot sausage rolls, as well as a cold rhubarb tart, jugs of fresh milk, and a flagon of apple wine. Before Darwin could take a step in that direction, a cloaked figure entered through the door at the far end.

  Solborne shot Darwin a look that said “Not a minute to spare!” and stood waiting. Helen Solborne sauntered toward them, eyeing Darwin with as much curiosity and interest as he regarded her.

  He decided in the first moment of inspection that both Thomas Solborne and Jacob Pole were right. She was tiny, five feet at most, with skin so fine and pale that the lamplight seemed to shine right through her skull. Although her figure was swathed in a long cloak, it was clear from her face that she was thinner than fashion demanded. She blinked constantly as though the oil lamps were too bright, and dark shadows limned her blue eyes.

  But those eyes were fiercely intelligent, and the jaw firm. She looked Darwin right in the eye, and the little curtsey she offered seemed like a private joke between the two of them.

  “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Dr. Darwin. If even as many as one fourth of Colonel Pole’s stories about you are true, I await dinner tonight more eagerly than I can say.”

  Darwin folded his hands across his belly and bowed in return. “I am no more than a provincial physician, with most of my life taken up by the common round of routine medical treatment. Extravagant advance billing of an entertainment, Miss Solborne, is perhaps the surest way of ensuring high disappointment.”

  “And extravagant modesty is perhaps the surest sign of high self-esteem.” She smiled, to reveal white teeth with a slight overbite. “My anticipation is undiminished. If you will excuse me, I must change now or be late for dinner.”

  As she drifted away through the door to the south tower, Solborne could not wait a moment longer.

  “Well? What can you tell me?”

  “I can tell you that I fully understand why the would-be suitors flock around Helen. Your sister is a most attractive woman.”

  “I mean about her health.”

  “My remark was not irrelevant to that issue. Sickness, true and serious sickness, is inconsistent with normal animal attraction. At some level, by smell or the natural language of the body, we respond to another’s state of health. However, you desire a more formal diagnosis. I am willing to provide one, although I have had no more than an opportunity for superficial observation of your sister.”

  “And?”

  “She appears in good health. Her gait, her posture, her willingness to indulge in badinage—yes, even her cheekiness toward me—all deny major disease.”

  “But you never saw her before. I assure you, she is different than she was three months ago.”

  “I believe you. And on that subject I am not bereft of ideas. However, I need proof. Did you invite Professor Riker this evening, as I requested?”

  “Naturally. I walked down to his house this morning and told him that, as a noted inventor from the Midlands, you would be devastated were you to visit Dorset and depart without an opportunity to see the famous calculating engine at work.”

  “Was there hesitation on his part?”

  “Not the slightest. He told me that he will be very busy for the next two weeks, exhibiting the engine, but at the moment he has time to breathe. He will be delighted to come here tonight after dinner, when he will show you the machine at work and allow you to propound your own mathematical questions. We can expect him, and his machine, within the hour. I freely admit to you, I do not share his delight at the prospect of his visiting Newlands. I am still convinced that he is doing my sister some terrible harm.”

  “Whatever harm is being done here, I am not yet ready to blame Professor Riker.”

  “Harm? Harm?” Jacob Pole, bustling in with his fingers and the tip of his nose a rosy pink, headed for the fireplace. He lifted the tail of his long coat, allowing the warmth from the blazing logs to irradiate his buttocks and the backs of his legs. “Welcome to Dorset, ’Rasmus. It’s a raw and foggy night out there. I’ll tell you one thing, if anyone comes to harm from all this it will be me. Tom can vouch for it, I’ve been out in all hours and all weathers, chilblains on my fingers and now scorch marks on my backside. I’m glad to be in for the night.”

  Darwin glanced at Thomas Solborne and sat down at the side table for a predinner snack. It did not seem like the best moment to mention that Jacob, if Darwin’s plans held good, was likely to be outside again before the evening was out.

  * * *

  The calculating engine corresponded exactly to Helen Solborne’s drawing. Riker had requested that the demonstration begin as soon as possible after dinner, “Since I have business tonight in Abbotsbury that cannot easily be delayed.”

  Two of the male staff of Newlands had carried the heavy rectangular box into one end of the dining room, grunting with effort, while Anton Riker hovered over them and told them twenty times that the engine must not under any circumstances be dropped.

  Once the machine was in position, Riker called his audience’s attention to the main features. The top, two feet wide and three feet deep, was of smooth hardwood coated with black lacquer. Two separate sets of nine levers were hinged at the upper surface. One additional lever allowed the operator to define the desired operation. All the levers projected upwards to form handles, and also continued below the surface, where their articulated brass rods were visible through the transparent glass sides of the engine. Riker demonstrated the action, moving a lever to one of its ten possible settings. As he did so the corresponding brass arm, jointed in two places, pushed into the opaque base of the engine. The base was roughly one foot deep, and each arm penetrated smoothly into its own separate slit in its upper surface.

  There was one more slit in the base of the engine. It was very narrow and about two inches wide, no more than six inches from the ground, and it held a strip of cardboard or stiff paper.

  The operator stood, or sat on a low stool in front of the machine.

  “For example, take this problem,” Riker said, after he had pointed out the different settings. He set the right hand lever of the upper set to the digit 2, and the right hand lever of the lower set to the digit 3. Finally he moved the operations lever to the setting that indicated multiplication. The actions of his skeletally thin fingers were deft and precise, and he hardly seemed to look at what he was doing. After a pause of about twenty seconds, long enough for his audience to become restive, there was a clicking noise from the engine’s base. The strip of cardboard advanced in its position from the side slot. Riker tore it off and held it out to the audience.

  Jacob Pole took the stiff paper and stared at the single printed digit. “Six,” he said. “Two times three. Hmph.”

  “
Not impressed?” Riker raised dark eyebrows. “I agree. We could all do as well, could we not? But come here, please, and sit down.”

  Pole, somewhat reluctantly, was installed on the stool.

  “Now, enter a number with these.” Riker touched the upper row of levers. “Any number that you like, up to nine figures.”

  The colonel, after a moment’s thought, moved the levers to indicate 4-3-2-1.

  “Very good. And now, a number with the lower levers.”

  “One-two-three-four. Is that all right?”

  “Quite suitable. Go ahead. And now, specify an operation.”

  “Multiply?”

  “Certainly, if that is what you would like. Move the lever.”

  There was a sound of metal on metal as the operation lever engaged. This time the silence lasted less than ten seconds. A series of clicks sounded from the base, and another cardboard strip emerged from the slot.

  Riker indicated the base, without touching anything. “Tear it off.”

  Pole did so, and frowned down at it.

  “Read what it says, Colonel Pole.”

  “It says, five-three-three-two-one-one-four. But how the devil am I supposed to know if that’s right?”

  “It will be correct, Colonel, believe me.” Riker showed total self-confidence. He turned to Darwin. “Doctor, would you perhaps like to perform your own experiments?”

  Darwin had been hovering close, like a child forbidden to touch a new toy. He nodded at once.

  Pole gave up his seat and retreated to a corner of the room, frowning over the cardboard strip that he held. Darwin took Pole’s place, his broad rump overflowing the sides of the stool. He employed each feature of the engine systematically, one after another. He paid particular attention to the length of the pause that followed each problem, and he studied the printed output carefully as it emerged.

  “It’s right!” Pole returned from the corner, where he had been scribbling on the slip of stiff paper. “Damme, I checked the answer by hand, and every digit is just as it should be. Professor, it’s amazing.”

  “Would it not be stranger, Colonel Pole, if most were right and one was wrong?”

  “But how the devil does it do it?”

  Riker smiled indulgently. “That, sir, must remain my secret. Let me say that no clock maker in Europe—no, in all the world—is able to construct its like.” He turned to Darwin. “Your hosts have seen the engine in operation before, several times. Do you have questions?”

  Darwin shook his head and hunched low on the stool.

  “Then with your permission.” Riker addressed the waiting menservants. “Take the engine and place it on my gig—and carefully.” Then, to the Solbornes and their visitors, “I must be on my way to Abbotsbury, as soon as the calculating engine is safely housed. My apologies if I do not stay longer.”

  The heavy machine was hauled downstairs and loaded carefully on board Riker’s waiting gig. The professor bade goodnight to Darwin, who had followed him downstairs, and drove off. Darwin frowned after the light carriage, listening to the fading sound of the horse’s hooves on the gravel. The fog of early evening had cleared, giving way to a faint and eerie sea-mist that came and went at random.

  Solborne was waiting anxiously when he went back upstairs.

  “Well?”

  “Where is your sister?”

  “She has retired to her rooms, probably for the night. She pleads fatigue. But what of Riker?”

  “I agree with you. He is not at all what he pretends to be.”

  “You mean, he is a—a—”

  “I do not mean that he is a vampire. He is something much more ordinary, and possibly far more dangerous.”

  “But my sister—when he was here, did you not see the change in her? She gazed at him steadily, and she did not speak one word.”

  “It was not necessary. Everything was pre-arranged. Can you be at the front door, warmly clad, in five minutes?”

  “Of course. But why?”

  Darwin ignored the question. He went across to Jacob Pole, who sat smoking his pipe, spitting into the fire, and staring over and over again at the printed figures produced by Riker’s calculating engine. “Jacob, stir yourself. Our work for the evening is not yet over.”

  “Eh?”

  “You will see. Get your warmest clothes, and meet me by the front door in five minutes.”

  “Eh?”

  “We are going to track down a vampire. What else?”

  “We are going to what?” Pole jerked upright and dropped his pipe. “My pistols—”

  “Will hardly help, I think.” Darwin was already heading down the stairs to the main hall, where his own cloak and broad-brimmed hat had been hung on an antlered stand. “What possible use could pistols be,” he said cheerfully over his shoulder, “against a vampire?”

  * * *

  Newlands stood close to the edge of the high sea-bank, which at this point of its southern course was a steep cliff dropping away to the water. Beyond the big house the shoreline ran in a concave curve. By walking fifty yards south, the three men could achieve a good view of the high tower containing Helen’s suite of rooms. Beyond it, almost invisible, stood the house’s dim-lit central portion and the north tower.

  Darwin brought them to a halt. Solborne gazed around at the dreary and silent horizon.

  “What now? I don’t see a thing.”

  “It may take a while. Keep your eyes there.” Darwin’s pudgy forefinger was pointing to the south tower, where the highest window was faintly visible as a dark outline in white stone.

  Tom Solborne frowned, while Pole kept his hand on one of two pistols stuck in his belt. It was easy to imagine a dark shape, hovering outside the curtained window or creeping up the smooth wall. Even if legend said that a lead ball would not work, it was certainly worth a try.

  The wait stretched into twenty minutes, while the air grew colder and the men shivered. Three minutes more, and a series of creaking sounds disturbed the breathless night. They came from the upper levels of the white tower.

  “Very soon now,” breathed Darwin.

  “Where is it?” Solborne scanned the tower from top to bottom. “What is it? How does it get in?”

  “Not in.” A different sound was added to Darwin’s words, the whir of cords on pulleys. “Not in. Out.”

  Heavy curtains across the high window were suddenly drawn aside. A beam of light, faintly visible in the mist that still swirled along the shore, speared out over the sea. It shone for twenty seconds, then vanished behind closing curtains. Half a minute later the curtains opened and the light was visible again.

  “Now.” Darwin was already on the move. “While Helen is preoccupied. Quickly.”

  The others hurried after him into the main door of the house and on up the left-hand stairs. They passed Joan Rowland’s room, where Darwin paused long enough to look in on the startled girl and place a finger to his lips.

  “Softly, now.” He was opening the door to the south tower, slowly and silently. “I checked earlier that there is no lock here, but any loud sound would reveal our presence. Keep to the wall.”

  The advice was necessary. They were ascending the curved staircase in near-total darkness. Up through the sitting room and study, up through the empty bedroom. Finally they were on the flight of stairs that led to the dressing room. With the other two right behind him Darwin paused at the closed door, then rapidly swung it wide.

  The room beyond was a confusion of light and shadow, of bright vertical bars marking boundaries for solid rectangles of darkness. That changed when Darwin seized one of the dark oblongs and spun it around on its axis. It became a full-length mirror, one of a dozen carefully placed around the walls of the room. Their glass picked up the light of four massive oil lamps in the middle of the chamber and reflected it as a single beam.

  Helen Solborne had been crouched low by the window. She swung around as the door opened, dropping the cord to the window drapes. Darwin strode forward, picked up
the cord, and decisively pulled the heavy curtains closed.

  Helen remained kneeling, her face pale and tense. She did not speak, but shrank back at Jacob Pole’s accusing shout.

  “Wreckers, by God! You’re a damned wrecker, setting up false lights to deceive mariners! If I hadn’t seen this, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

  “Do not believe it yet.” Darwin snuffed the light of three of the lamps, leaving one to illuminate the room. He turned to Tom Solborne, standing openmouthed in the doorway. “So much for your missing oil. Have there been reports of ships lost off this coast in the past few months?”

  Solborne shook his head and stared at his sister.

  “So it is not wreckers, Jacob,” Darwin went on. “And it is not vampires. It is something with the potential to be more dangerous than both. It is signals, lights amplified by means of reflecting surfaces. I compliment you, Miss Solborne, on your mastery of light propagation and collimation.” He waved his hand toward the array of mirrors. “But now it is over. Shall we then, as the bard advises, ‘sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings’?”

  “That was never our intent!” The blue eyes opened wide. “But you know. How can you? You arrived only this afternoon. Who told you? What told you?”

  “No one told me. I know not from a single major event, but from an accumulation of many small ones. Now it is necessary that your brother know, too.” When she remained silent, Darwin continued, “Come, Helen Solborne. This will serve better coming from you.”

  She shook her head, and turned her eyes to her brother.

  “No? Very well.” Darwin pushed three tall mirrors out of the way and pulled forth the chairs that stood behind them. He gestured to the others to sit down. “Apparently I must begin. You, Miss Solborne, may correct me as necessary.

  “Your brother came to see me concerned only for your welfare. You had, he feared, fallen under some evil influence. I must admit, my own first instinct upon hearing the circumstances was no more valid than his speculations on the undying monsters of Transylvania. For I thought of Dr. Franz Mesmer, whose ‘animal magnetism’ has allowed him for the past few years to achieve amazing control over subjects and patients in Vienna.” Darwin regarded Helen Solborne with a definite glint of humor in his eye. “That theory did not survive my first exposure to you and Professor Riker. I judge you more likely to dominate and control him, than vice-versa.

 

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